


Wide

by ceywoozle



Series: One Word Bottomjohn Prompts [53]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Jealous Sherlock, M/M, PWP, Possessive Sherlock, Public Claiming, Public Sex, because this is my weird and twisted sherlock and john, dub con, in a really weird and twisted way, my god i didn't even try, there is nothing good about this, they're both pretty well mad, though in my shameless head it is absolutely consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceywoozle/pseuds/ceywoozle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the One Word Bottomjohn Prompt Series.</p><p>Sherlock doesn't like it when people look at John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wide

It is hot. He watches the sweat pooling in the small of John’s back.

It’s quiet, except for the smack of skin on skin. Except for John’s panting breaths, his fingers scrabbling against loose paper. Reports falling to the ground. The ragged inhalations of the seventeen people standing around and staring. There is the squelch of wetness, of sweat and lube, a lewd sound and it carries, obscene and overloud in the noiseless homicide department of New Scotland Yard. John makes a sound like a starving animal begging for a scrap of food.

Sherlock doesn’t look at him. He is staring at the seventeen pairs of eyes around them. Donovan, Anderson, Lestrade. The kid who gets the coffee. The man who files the reports. The woman from evidence. Sherlock recognises them. Knows their blank stupid faces and at each thrust of his cock into John’s body, bent over Anderson’s cluttered desk, he switches from one to the other. Stopping at each set of wide and staring eyes.

They look like goldfish. Pathetic creatures. He knows all of them. Can remember every offense each and every one of them has built up. Every time one of them has stared at John too long. Every lingering touch or flirtatious smile. He remembers them all and he is accusing them, as he meets each wide and disbelieving eye. He is telling them.  _Mine._

John is good. John has never questioned it. Has never doubted who he belongs to. He can’t help the way people respond to him. But Sherlock believes in expediency. He believes in making things clear the first time around.

He pushes his cock, over and over into John’s shaking body and his eyes settle on Lestrade.

_Mine._

There will be no questioning of this from now on.


End file.
